


Trapped in a Box (You're not entirely being metaphorical, are you?)

by Azpidistra



Category: Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are Dead - Stoppard
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-20
Updated: 2009-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azpidistra/pseuds/Azpidistra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were trapped, weren't they?  They must be.  It made sense.  Didn't it?  If they could just remember where they were last, and why that might be important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trapped in a Box (You're not entirely being metaphorical, are you?)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Culumacilinte](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Culumacilinte/gifts).



> Happy holidays, Culumacilinte!
> 
> I admit it's been awhile since I've seen this movie last, but writing an epilogue of sorts for these two was always something I wondered about. Something about them straddling worlds (metaphorical and literal), and boxes perhaps.
> 
> So, enjoy! (I hope.)

"Are we dead?"

Rosencrantz shrugged. "Not sure." Hesitation, then: "Probably."

"Oh." Guildenstern considered this for a moment. He patted his clothes: his hat, shirt, his pants; he found the coin in his change purse, and seemingly satisfied he flipped it. "Hm. Heads."

"I really wish you wouldn't do that."

"Why not?"

Rosencrantz looked uncertain a moment, then said resolutely: "Doesn't seem right."

"Because we're dead."

"Maybe. Probably." More hesitation. "Yes, yes; no." Rosencrantz sat. Not on a chair, as there weren't any chairs around, but there were rocks, and that worked nearly as well, mostly. "I mean, are we?"

"Not as if we could find out." Guildenstern stopped with the coin. He studied Rosencrantz a moment, asking: "Where were we last?"

"On the ship, weren't we?"

"Yes, to England. With Prince Hamlet, and.. and..."

"The Players."

"Right the Players." Guildenstern frowned. "Seems they know something."

"Something?"

"That night at the bar, you remember. That show, as if they were trying to tell us _something_."

"We saw many shows."

"Too many," Guildenstern agreed.

"But at the bar?"

"They performed _us_."

"Impossible." Rosencrantz didn't sound convinced.

"Is it?"

"Are you suggesting the Players are the driving force behind our fate?"

"Is anyone really the driving force behind our fate?"

Rosencrantz considered this. "Surely, if anyone is, it would be the actors."

"You are suggesting they'd know everything?"

"Better than most."

"I suppose." Guildenstern frowned, flipping the coin again. "Heads."

"I really wish you wouldn't do that."

"Because it doesn't seem right?"

"Because we may or may not be dead."

Guildenstern considered this. "Like that cat."

"Cat?"

"That cat, you remember the one. In the box. With the holes. If you leave him in there, he may or may not be dead. But once you take him out, he is or is not."

"A cat."

"It is better than the alternative."

"Alternative?"

"Yes." Guildenstern hesitated, then, "Heads."

"I would think it not."

"Think it not?"

"Are we playing Questions?"

"Aren't we?"

Rosencrantz opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Consider this. If we were in a box, with holes, or not, at least we'd be in the box, and we could think, and at least we're not dead, which is better than the alternative, which is being alive, don't you agree?"

"So, aren't we?"

"Aren't we what?"

"Alive?"

"As opposed to dead?"

"Yes?"

Rosencrantz studied Guildenstern. "I thought we weren't playing Questions?"

"I thought we were."

"Statement."

"Humph." Guildenstern flipped the coin. "You were saying?"

"That as long we are in that box or not in that box, we don't have to think whether we are dead or not because it still better than the alternative."

"What is the alternative?"

"Being not dead, of course."

"So, are we?"

"What?"

"Not dead," Guildenstern stated matter-of-factly, and flipped the coin.

Rosencrantz looked surprised. "Do you think then we might still be in that play?"

"You're not going ask me to stop?"

"Does seem rather pointless," Rosencrantz allowed.

Guildenstern considered this. "If we were, that would mean we're still in that bar, wouldn't it?"

"Or on the ship."

"No, because we saw the play in the bar,". Guildenstern appeared thoughtful, holding the coin still in his hand. "We merely encountered the Players on the bar. They were steering."

"Or acting."

"How could they do both?"

"They could be acting in order to steer?"

"Or steering in order to act?"

"But that doesn't make _sense_." Rosencrantz was rather sure of this.

"Is it supposed to?"

"Isn't it?"

"Is what?"

"Make sense."

"Make sense of what?"

"Of acting."

"Acting of what?" Now, Guildenstern was confused. "I thought were discussing steering."

"Precisely." Rosencrantz looked almost giddy. "Acting of the players. Whether or not they were only on that ship because they were acting. Or supposed to be acting." He hesitated, then: "Or maybe we were supposed to be acting."

"On the ship?"

"On behalf of Prince Hamlet."

"But Prince Hamlet didn't ask for us."

"On the ship, you mean?"

"Yes." Guildenstern nodded. "We met him in the castle. To cheer him."

Rosencrantz stood. "We were to accompany him to England."

"To England." He flipped the coin.

"For his execution."

"Our -" The coin dropped. "He was, wasn't?"

"Most likely. He wouldn't have - _left_ us -"

"We were his friends," Guildenstern reminded, sounding almost hopeful.

"At Wittenberg, yes. But then you remember, his father -"

"He was acting strange."

"It's possible -"

"We were sent for." Guildenstern whispered it.

"We were sent for," Rosencrantz repeated, sounding almost heartbroken.

Guildenstern bent down to pick up his coin. "But _why_ were we sent for?"

"To accompany Hamlet to England, of course." Rosencrantz frowned. "Weren't we?"

"I think so."

"To cheer him."

"He had changed after his father -"

"His uncle did ask us."

"His mother pleaded with us."

"Only we encountered the Players first."

"They seemed a jolly sort." Guildenstern flipped the coin.

"They knew something."

"They are _Players_."

"There was something else."

"A cat?"

"No." Rosencrantz hesitated, then: "I really wish you wouldn't do that."

"Because we're dead."

"Because we might not be."

Guildenstern frowned. "Because we might be."

"But if the cat was let out?"

"It could still be alive."

"Or might not be." Rosencrantz sighed, and sunk again onto the rock. "I'm not sure I'd want to live in a box."

"Because you might still be alive?"

"Because I might be _dead_. It'd be rather worse to be dead in a box, I think. At least if you were alive, you might have someone find you."

"To let you out."

"Well, yes."

Guildenstern considered this. "But what if they didn't?"

"Didn't what?"

"Let you out. What if you were in that box? What if you were already dead? Then where would you be?"

"Stuffed in a box?"

"Yes, and even if you were let out, you'd just find yourself -"

"Elsewhere?" Rosencrantz suggested helpfully.

"Yes," Guildenstern nodded, then frowned. "We were to accompany him to England."

"We were sent for," Rosencrantz confirmed.

Guildenstern nodded. "To England," he said, and flipped the coin again.


End file.
